The Constant: A History of Getting Things Wrong

Season Finale

We could've called this show "Whoopsie!" or "Oops!" or "People Believe The Strangest Things." But instead, we called it "The Constant." On this, the season finale, we finally explain why. That means it's time to fawn about Einstein, and the thing he called "the biggest blunder of his life." It also means it's time for Mark to get a tattoo. Which... Look: let's not talk about it, okay?

Fire-Proof Lizards, Vegetable Lambs and Ball-Biting Beavers

Throughout time people have twisted the most humdrum of creatures until they were fantastical, bizarre, unbelievable monsters. From a logistically unfeasible hybrid to a self-castrating quarry, we're bringing you a suite of four stupefying animal myths, and then tracing them to their surprisingly humble beginnings. Plus, do you know what's in your vanilla flavoring? Do you want to? Well, listen anyway.

(And Call Me in The Morning)

This week: a whirlwind history of bad medical practices, worse medical practices and medical practices that--while still pretty awful--looked fantastic by comparison. Western medical history began with a madman who threw himself into a volcano to prove he was a god, and it only went downhill from there. For our story, we look at how one man managed to change 19th century medicine for the better, and how his discovery managed to make 20th century medicine worse.

We're Still Here

"Threatening the world with Famine, Plague and War: To Princes, Death! To Kingdoms, many Crosses; To all Estates, inevitable Losses! To Herdsmen, Rot; to Plowmen, hapless Seasons; To Sailors, Storms, To Cities, Civil Treasons!" -John Gadsbury, 1665. This week we get superstitious with comets, the great bearded stars that herald wishes made true. Or else fiery death. One or the other. For millennia mankind was panicked by these heavenly signs, not knowing what they were. And once we did find out what they were... well, then we panicked differently.

Art is Dead

You don't know this story. You don't know the killer. You don't know the victims. You don't know the artist and you don't know the artworks. But in 1998 Yugoslavia, a series of mutilated corpses shocked the public, rocked the art world and, maybe, changed politics forever.